


New Year's Eve

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories II [22]
Category: E.R., X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter looks into the future?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately.
> 
> SPECIAL NOTES: Okay, so I didn't get my act together yet to produce more John/Walter stories. Hopefully this little bit will help everyone be patient as I work to finish up the recent story line.

From the darkened room, the view was beautiful. The wind was blowing, and the lake rippled with white capped waves. The street lights gave the heavy snow that blanketed the city an almost rosy hue. The quiet of the room was interrupted by sound of the heat kicking on. Walter could feel it blowing across his pants legs and bare feet.

He'd asked for this room specifically. It was here that he had "deflowered" John Carter. He smiled at that thought. As if anyone could actually deflower John. It was more like he'd unleashed some sort of demon. John Carter had stormed his walls and refused to leave. He'd forced way into Walter's heart and then his life like a bull dozer. Or a steam roller.

In a couple of hours, John Carter would arrive. He'd had a room card messengered over to the hospital in the afternoon. Tonight would be special. The eve of the new millennium. More than that, though. The eve of a new life for them.

An ER resident position had opened up in D.C. John Carter had already accepted it. The night before they had told Kerry Weaver that John would be leaving. She had toasted their new life together with a good scotch. Kerry, like another small but aggressive redhead he knew, had proven to be a good friend.

Walter crossed his arms over his chest and settled back in the chair, watching the snow fall outside the window. So much had changed. Some things stayed the same. Chicago was still the coldest fucking city he'd ever been in.

Walter closed his eyes.

"Walter? Hey, big guy, you going to sleep on me?"

Walter opened his eyes and blinked against the bright light. He covered his face with his hand. "Damn."

"Sun's bright out here. Where are your sunglasses?"

Walter sat up, confused. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. The sun was blinding coming off the water. It was warm, no hot. It was actually hot. Walter was handed sunglasses and he put them on. They cut the glare enough that he could see, finally. He looked up and saw a man with thinning gray hair and a snow white beard grinning at him.

"Jesus, John Carter! You're old!"

John laughed and flopped down on the chair next to Walter. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

John was very tan, and though he'd gained some weight, mostly around his middle, he was still vibrant. And sexy. Walter reached out and stroked John's leg, moving up his thigh to the edge of his shorts.

"Hey, don't be starting anything you can't finish."

Walter raised one eyebrow. "Who's to say that I can't finish?"

John Carter threw back his head and laughed. "You are still such a macho bastard, you know that?"

The chairs were on a wooden dock that jutted out into the water. Walter looked around. It was quiet, somewhere in the distance he could hear some kind of bird. It appeared to be a large lake. The water around the dock was clear, turning to a dark blue further out. There was a slight breeze. It ruffled John Carter's hair, and he sighed.

"Not enough wind to sail." He stood up and grabbed Walter's hand, pulling him out of his chair. "Come on, you've spent enough time sleeping in the sun. It's hot out here."

The boards of the dock felt hot beneath Walter's feet. When they reached the shore, the ground sloped up gently. At the top of the rise stood a one story house shaded by huge spreading oak trees. Spanish moss dripped from the branches toward the ground. The grass going up the hill was green, but beneath the trees the ground was almost bare, except where large patches of fern and flowers grew in neat beds.

Walter stopped and stared. "God, this is beautiful."

John Carter smiled. "You'd think you'd never seen it before, Walter."

Inside the house was cool. The furnishings were simple, a long couch, two recliners, a large screen television set. A huge window in the dining room looked out over the lake. Walter stood at the window and stared at the long expanse of lawn, then the broad lake beyond.

John Carter came up behind him and put his arms around Walter's waist. "When the real estate agent brought us here, you walked right up to this window, looked out at the lake and said, 'This is it.' You didn't even ask any questions. You just turned to her and said, 'Make a bid that will get it.' I didn't even have a say."

"Does that bother you?"

John Carter shook his head and kissed the back of Walter's neck. "Nope. I love it when you get all macho and bossy like that."

Walter snorted. "Yeah, right. Like you never get bossy."

"Want a beer?"

"Yeah."

They walked into the kitchen and Walter saw a newspaper lying on the counter. He looked at the front page. The date was July 14, 2032. The newspaper was the Jacksonville Times-Union. Florida. They were in Florida.

"Are you all right?"

Walter's head snapped up and he looked at John. "Sure. Yeah."

John touched his forehead and Walter moved his head away. "I'm fine."

"Okay, that's it," John grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the kitchen. Walter found himself in the bedroom, being pushed down into a chair next to the windows. John went to the closet and returned with his black bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Humor me. I'm going to take your blood pressure and listen to your heart and lungs."

"Oh, good grief."

"Be quiet and sit still." John stuck a thermometer in Walter's mouth. "Maybe that will keep you quiet."

Walter patiently waited for the thermometer to beep while John took his blood pressure. Then John lifted Walter's t-shirt and listened to his heart and breathing.

"So? Will I live?"

John nodded. "Yep. You're good for another few years anyway." He grinned. BP's fine. Temp's normal. Heart and lungs of a bull.

Walter looked at the man kneeling next to him and felt the heat of his own arousal flash up from his groin to his chest. "That's not all that's like a bull," he said softly. He took John's hand and placed it on the crotch of his pants.

"Oh, my God. We need to do something about that. Right now."

John Carter leaned up and kissed him, biting his lips, forcing Walter's mouth open with his tongue. He tasted good. The slight tang of good beer, then the flavor beneath that was all John.

They moved quickly to the bed, undressing each other and they went. They fell on top of the spread and soon Walter found himself in the familiar position of more or less letting John Carter have his way. Not only was it easier, it was incredibly arousing, having someone attack him with such desire.

It didn't take long. A simple Princeton rub with John Carter attempting to devour him with his mouth. But it was satisfying. He orgasmed, shouting, clutching John Carter to his chest. Seconds later John came too.

For a few minutes they lay together, panting, sweating. Then John rolled off him and nudged him toward the edge of the bed. "Your turn to get the washcloth."

"You're sure about that?"

"Absolutely." John Carter began snoring.

Walter looked at him, then reached out and touched John's beard. It was soft, and so white. His hair still had traces of dark in it, but not his beard. It made a huge contrast with the tan of his face. There were lines around his eyes and across his forehead, but asleep, he looked remarkably the same as he had when they first met. Walter's fingers brushed through John's hair.

The snoring stopped suddenly and John opened his eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," Walter replied. He stroked the side of John Carter's face. "I love you so much, John Carter."

John smiled sleepily. "I know." He curled up next to Walter burying his face against his shoulder and began to snore again.

Walter let his head drop onto the pillow, and felt himself drifting off into sleep.

"Walter? Walter? Wake up."

Walter opened his eyes. John Carter knelt next to his chair, his dark hair and beard looking almost black in the dark room.

"You're here."

"A little late, but here. I hated to wake you up. You had this smile on your face. You must have been having a wonderful dream."

Walter reached out and ran his fingers through John Carter's hair. "I was."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Not right now."

John smiled. "I think we're both wearing too many clothes. At the stroke of midnight, I fully intend to have you screaming my name."

"You do? And what if it was my plan to have you screaming my name?"

"I think we can work something out."

John Carter claimed Walter's mouth with a heated kiss. He tasted of coffee and smelled of antiseptic, but beneath it was the flavor that was only John. They broke apart and Walter stared out the window down at Lake Michigan. The heat kicked on and he felt it against his bare feet.

Nice dream, he thought. John stood up and moved behind Walter's chair. He rested his chin on Walter's head. His beard felt soft against Walter's bare scalp.

"Let's always live near the water, okay?"

Walter nodded. "Okay."


End file.
